Hands
by Bleeding Rainbows
Summary: Running drabbles of Karkat And Terezi, post-Openbound.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Homestuck belongs to its creator, Andrew Hussie.**

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You cough as you walk toward her. The steps you take feel like lead. Your eyes are set on your feet, following each footstep. Your hand finds it way to your hair, messing it up, before it falls lethargically to your side.

As you finally walk past her, you feel a tug of your pants. You freeze on the spot, your heart surging with something that seemed to have died a long time ago, and your mind desperately trying to push it down. Slowly, you turn your head and look down.

She doesn't show any signs of needing your help, save from the hand gripping the hem of your pants. Her hoodie is still up, and her head is still facing down. Not knowing what else to do, you press your back against the same wall she is leaning on and slide down next to her cautiously.

But not too close; never too close.

For the longest time, all you can hear is the sound of your breathing being mixed with hers, their rhythms contrasting greatly. After what feels like hours, with a frustrated sigh, you stand up. You couldn't take this suffocating silence any longer. Looking down once more, you feel a grimace creeping onto your face as your eyes land on her. Her whole being has become tense, and she seems to have curled even deeper into herself.

_Is she really expecting you to treat her like that asshole of a moirail you have will?_

Letting out a distressed growl, your hand goes up once more to disturb your tresses a second time, before stretching its way to the space in front of Terezi's head. You wait a while, your mind going in all sorts of directions, mostly bordering on the lines of _what the fuck are you doing?_ She lifts her head by a miniscule. You can't really decide whether she's actually considering your offer, or blatantly ignoring it, what with her hoodie still covering about half of her face. When you finally conclude that she was doing the latter, because _what the fuck were you expecting_, you feel a tiny, frail, small hand slip itself between your fingers.

_She was always one for surprises_, you think.

You then proceed to pull her to her feet, taking a short glance at the top of her hoodie, before leading her back to her respiteblock. You feel a little lost, a little confused, but just a tiny bit like you have the whole world in your hands.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Homestuck belongs to its creator, Andrew Hussie.**

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Your name is Karkat Vantas and you feel like you have the whole world in your hands.

Her hand is cold against the warmth of your palm. Her fingers feel so thin, yet in her gentle grip she seems so steadfast. You heart won over your mind the minute her skin came into contact with yours, and you cannot deny the overwhelming urge to swallow that lump in your throat.

You walk at a snail's pace to her respiteblock, the sound of both your footsteps echoing through the empty hallway. She is silent throughout the journey, and you can't help giving small glances backward. The view is always the same; her dragon hoodie staring back at you.

You sigh.

Upon reaching the door to her room, you halt in your footsteps and she stops a little ways behind you, hand beginning to fall limp back to her side. In the spur of the moment, you quickly grip onto her fingers; not too tight such that she can still easily pull away, but not too loose either, just enough to show her you're_right there._She jolts as she feels your fingers enclosing around hers and you almost let go.

_She doesn't trust you._

Your eyes fall to your feet as you try to compose yourself. _Get your fucking act together, Vantas._You push down the painful urge to start bawling at her feet and look up. Through your blurred vision, you try to make out Terezi's small frame. Your heart breaks as your eyes scan over the empty shell of the girl you once admired so much. The words begin to flow out.

"T-Terezi, I know I've said this before, and I won't blame you if you don't want to listen. But just hear me out.

"I know I fucked up with you, and I don't expect you to ever forgive me. But please, just believe me when I say this. Terezi, you are _not_defined by the mistakes you have made. Whatever that fuckass Gamzee has brainwashed you into thinking, don't listen. You're not a worthless existence and I know somewhere inside of you, you don't deny that either. Fuck, I know you've given up on a lot of things, including me, but please, _please,_don't ever give up on yourself."

At this point, both of your hands are cupping hers. Your fingers rigid in the desire to curl themselves around her frail digits, but hesitating in fear of scaring her off. Your voice had trailed off into a choked sob, and you curse yourself for being weak in front of the girl who clearly needs you to be strong.

She stands in front of you, waiting, breathing shallow. You hear a small sniff, but you can't tell for sure who it belongs to. With a sigh, you let her hand go. She retracts her arm and wraps it around her center.

"…I've got to go," she says, and you feel dread washing over you. You nod without meeting her gaze and she retreats into her respiteblock. You watch her disappear before leaning heavily against the wall next to her door, and let yourself sink to the floor.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you can't help but feel your hands are as empty as your heart as you let your whole world slip through your fingers and out of your grasp.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Homestuck belongs to its creator, Andrew Hussie.**

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Your name is Karkat Vantas and you have no idea what the hell is going on.

Her breath is hot on your lips as she dives in again, pressing her mouth to yours. Her hands grip the front of your shirt, crumpling it in her tight hold. She leans in, over and over, and you think you may have lost whatever grip you have on your thinkpan.

Despite this, you're _scared. _Your hands tighten on her waist. _You're scared of feeling like this. _Your lips part and she take advantage of it. _You're scared of how familiar this feeling is, this false hope. _She sighs into your mouth. _Karkat_, she breathes.

You swallow.

Gradually, your hands leave her waist in favour for her shoulders. A gentle push is all it takes for her to untangle herself from you and curl into a ball at your side. Her dragon hoodie hides her face, but follows the movement of her panting. Your arms are rigid by your side. You try to restart your bloodpusher.

You hear a tiny sniff. Snapping out of your stupor, your head instinctively turns to her. You confirm you aren't hearing things; the slight tremble of the red cloth donned on her head gives it away. As the sniffles grow into sobs, your fists clench and you grind your teeth. The pain in your chest expands, choking you. You watch her tighten her hold on herself, hands grabbing the ends of her cape and wrapping them around her frame. She lets out a silent, choked,_pained _scream and something in you just _snaps._

"Fuck, Terezi," you bite out and reach for her. An arm goes around her shoulders and a hand buries itself in her hair. You press her tightly against the blade of your shoulder, feeling the tears seeping through the cloth there. The trembling becomes more violent, and you feel a different type of fear. She lets you hold her, lets you kiss the top of her head, lets you repeat words of comfort that seem more like prayers to your ears. She takes in your voice, soaks it up like a sponge, and the trembling ceases.

At this point, you're cradling her. She is sitting on your lap perpendicular to your body, your hands still holding her head to your chest and a loose arm draped over her thighs. You rest your chin on the top of her head because Gog knows whether she wants you to see her cry.

Then suddenly, you feel it; a small tugging of the cloth around your wrist.

She curls and sinks her fingers into the long sleeve of your shirt. Your face turns down, eyes watching her tighten her grip on you, before burying itself into the red of her hoodie. You choke back that lump in your throat as you relieve her fingers of the dark material and replace it with your hand. Your fingers weave through hers and you almost hear her let out a sigh.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and as you blink back the red in your eye, you struggle to contain this overwhelming feeling of having the girl in the dark choose you to be the light her hands hang onto.


End file.
